5 Lessons in Discovery
by piccolina789
Summary: Fifth in the series of post-episode stories. Spoilers for all of CSI season five - from "Viva Las Vegas" to "Grave Danger". GSR.
1. Viva Forever

**A/N: **Was it just me, or is Sara hilarious in this episode? This is short, busy weekend and even busier week, but hopefully the updates will continue as planned!

Spoilers for episode 5x1, Viva Las Vegas.

* * *

><p>"Sara."<p>

Catherine barged into the locker room, eyes blazing.

"I need a drink," she said. "Now."

I averted my eyes.

"I can't."

"Oh, you so can," Catherine prodded. "No excuses, let's go."

I bit my lip. Catherine had taken me for a drink when I'd needed it. And she sure looked like she needed one. My PEAP counselor hadn't said anything about stopping drinking – occasionally, of course – but I had kinda made a promise to myself to quit for a while. Why did this have to be so hard?

"I really can't, Cath, I'm sorry."

She stared at me for a moment, gave me a steely look, and walked out. I sighed. She'd probably be frustrated with me for the next shift or two, but it was worth it. I didn't want to let myself down again.

"Sara."

Greg burst into the locker room, looking like he was either about to yell or burst into tears.

"I _really _need a drink," he said. "Chandra quit."

"I can't, Greg."

"Chandra _quit_, Sara," he said. "And I failed my proficiency. Bar. Now."

"I can't," I said bitterly, and a little angrily.

Greg must have been surprised by the tone in my voice, because the anger dropped off his face and he came to take a seat next to me on the bench.

"Are you going to tell me what your summer vacation was about?" he asked softly.

"No."

He paused.

"Oh," he said, taken aback. "Well… are you okay?"

"Yeah," I replied. "Yeah, I'm fine, Greg. And I'm sorry about Chandra."

"It's okay," he said, obviously still concerned. "I'll… figure it out. I'll, uh, see you tomorrow?"

"See you tomorrow."

He left, and I sighed deeply. I'd tried hard to act okay during shift – I didn't want anyone to even get a _hint_ of what my "vacation" had really been, but maybe I overdid it. All I wanted to do was talk to Grissom, get it over with, and go home.

"Sara."

"What?" I snapped. "Oh. Grissom."

"I, uh, was just telling you I'm heading out for then night," he said. "You need a ride?"

"Oh," I said. "No… I'm parked out back. But thanks."

"Okay," he nodded. "See you tomorrow."

He began to make his way down the hall.

"Grissom?" I called. "Are… are we going to talk?"

His eyes widened.

"Oh, Sara, I completely forgot," he said softly. "Between Greg's proficiency, doing paperwork for the new girl, covering cases…"

"You're busy," I finished. "It's okay. We'll… we'll do it soon."

"Soon," he agreed. "I promise. Night, Sara."

"Goodnight."

I watched him disappear down the hall, and I sighed yet again. I thought of the endlessly irritating question my counselor repeatedly asked, _how do you feel about that?_

Well, I wish you'd just talk to me. My anger is gone. Desperation has settled down a bit. I'm feeling better.

I wish you'd just talk to me.


	2. What Bothers Gil Grissom

**A/N:** Here is my interpretation of what bothers Gilbert Grissom.

I feel like I'm struggling with season five a little bit. I apologize if these seem slow-going so far, but it's laying the groundwork for the second half of the season, I promise. Things will get going soon.

Spoilers for episode 5x6, What's Eating Gilbert Grissom?

* * *

><p>"I heard what happened."<p>

Sara leaned against the doorjamb of the interrogation room.

"You got here fast," I acknowledged. "Good work on finding the ruse."

She lifted her head in recognition, but didn't smile. I'd been trying to make her smile more lately. I'd been _trying_ lately.

"What do you have?" she asked.

I held up the paper.

"Kevin Greer's art," I said dully.

She took the paper and stared at it.

"This guy was… twisted," she said. "The things he thought, the things he did to those girls…"

"Yet he was average," I said. "You could pass him by without a second glance. Never know what he was capable of."

Sara lifted her gaze from the paper and met my eyes.

"This one was tough for you, wasn't it?" she asked softly.

"Yeah," I replied. "For many reasons."

We were both silent for a few moments before Sara passed back the artwork.

"Catherine needs a hand processing the bathroom," she said, nodding towards the hallway. "I thought I'd take care of it."

"Thank you."

She turned to leave, but paused with her hand on the doorframe.

"You should go home, Griss," she said. "It's been a long shift."

She left, and I watched her go, gloominess settling over my heart. It was cases like these that got the wheels in my head turning. Where I realized what kind of dangers surrounded us, and how much they were capable of destroying. It was cases like these that I worried for Sara.

It was… hard to explain. And besides for my outburst during the Strip Strangler case when she was literally offered up as bait, I'd never revealed my apprehension. But the truth was, I was constantly worried about her, and for her safety. I hated thinking that she could just as easily had been one of Kevin Greer's, or any other killers, victims, just by a cruel twist of fate. She _could_ be taken from me as easily as Janet Kent or Charlene Roth or Kaitlin Rackish. She wasn't. But she could have been, and it was that thought that scared the hell out of me.

It takes heartbreak to make you realize what really matters.


	3. Tua Culpa

**A/N: **Spoilers for episode 5x9, Mea Culpa.

* * *

><p>"So if you guys are breaking up with me, I guess this is goodbye."<p>

Warrick sputtered on his sip of coffee and put his mug back onto the table.

"Hey, it's not us that's breaking up with you," he said.

"That honor is all Ecklie's," Nick agreed.

"Guy's an ass," I muttered.

The guys murmured their agreement through mouthfuls of eggs, and I poked at my toast. It had only been one day since the staff changes, and I'd yet to work with my new team, but it already seemed like ages ago that we were broken up. I was dreading shift that night.

"How was your first shift with Supervisor Catherine?" I asked.

Nick and Warrick exchanged a look before shrugging.

"Nothing to write home about," Nick said. "It wasn't a busy shift, and they're still getting everything settled."

"She'll be a great supervisor," Warrick put in. "But it's going to take some getting used to."

"Tell me about it," I said.

"What about you?" Warrick asked. "How do you feel about your new little team?"

"Greg's learning fast," I replied. "But I haven't met Sofia yet. Never worked with her either, just heard things."

"Yeah, I know what you mean," Nick said. "I don't really know what I think of her quite yet."

"In any case, you guys left me all alone with Grissom," I smirked. "Thanks a lot."

"Hey, not our fault," Warrick pointed out again.

"Well, even if you didn't do the breaking, maybe it's still goodbye," I said.

"Don't say that," Nick said discouragingly. "We'll still see each other. Work together every once in a while."

I shrugged.

"You'll be on your way out when I'm on my way in… soon enough you'll just walk past me in the hallway and forget to say hi."

"And pass by that pretty face?" Warrick teased. "Never."

I smiled briefly and raised my cup of coffee to my lips, but by the time it lowered, the smile was gone. The changes had certainly been a shock. But it wasn't until I got home from shift that night that it really sunk in. I was losing my support system, my friends. Nick and Warrick had been rocks for me, always there when I needed them, whether they knew they were helping me or not. And I was left to fend for myself, more so than ever before, with a trainee to guide to boot. And I wasn't sure if I was up for the task.

"Let's make it a deal," Nick began. "At least once a week, we three meet up – outside work. We can swap supervisor horror stories."

I was doubtful. Nick and Warrick would now be sleeping like regular people, not like the vampires they used to be, and I would be dead to the world while they got up and running for work. Our schedules just wouldn't leave enough time. But the guys looked optimistic, and I told myself that if we cared enough about each other, we'd make time. And I didn't want to lose them as friends.

So I put my hand on top of Nick's, Warrick covered my hand with his, and we made our pact. Warrick covered our breakfast, telling me it was the least he could do for abandoning me for two much lesser co-workers.

We hugged in the parking lot, and when Nick told me to not get "too attached to Greggo, now", I laughed, but as soon as they pulled away, sadness and anger sunk in. I was angry at Ecklie for putting himself on a pedestal, for thinking he had the right to meddle in our files and in our lives, and for having the audacity to split up a great forensics team. I knew I shouldn't sulk, I loved Greg, Sofia could be great, and Grissom and I were doing… better. But it wouldn't be the same.

And if I didn't have enthusiasm for my work, what did I have left?


	4. Who Stole Sara's Smile?

**A/N: **Lots of important episodes on today! Expect a few more updates soon enough :)

Spoilers for episode 5x11, Who Shot Sherlock?

* * *

><p>"So where to, then?"<p>

My eyes widened.

"I get to pick the place?"

"It's your day, Greg," Sara said, swinging her locker door shut. "You're a big bad CSI now, and we'll go wherever you want. With the exception of any place that has a reference to boobs in its name in any way, shape or form."

I snorted.

"Well, what about McMullan's on Tropicana?" I suggested.

"Feeling Irish?"

"It's one of my favorite places," I said. "And it's close."

"McMullan's it is," Sara said, grabbing her coat. "I'm really proud of you, Greg."

I grinned at her, feeling my cheeks flush red.

"Hey, Sara, Sanders says drinks are on you tonight," Nick said as he popped his head into the locker room.

"Yeah, does that include us, or just newbie CSIs?" Warrick put in.

Sara turned to glare at me, but turned back to the guys with a smile.

"I guess I could possibly extend the invitation," she said.

"Well, let's go then," Warrick exclaimed, rubbing his hand together. "Give Greggo a real celebration."

We trooped out the locker room and headed towards the parking lot, passing Grissom's office on the way. He was sitting at his desk in silence, poured over a book.

"Hey, I'll catch up," Sara said and paused at his doorway.

I continued walking with Nick and Warrick, but from behind us, I heard Sara ask Grissom if he wanted to join us.

"What the heck?" Nick said when she caught up. "No supervisors allowed."

Sara shrugged.

"Well, he didn't want to go anyway," she said. "So no harm done."

"Maybe he has better plans," Warrick said with eyebrows raised.

We all turned and followed his gaze back towards Grissom's office. Sofia Curtis knocked on the door, and was saying something to Grissom in a soft voice. I couldn't hear what it was, but soon after, she let herself inside and closed the door behind her.

"Well, she's certainly making friends," Nick said.

We pushed through the exit, Nick and Warrick still laughing and cracking jokes, but even in the moonlit parking lot, I could see Sara's face falling.

"Hey, you okay?" I asked, elbowing her softly.

"Huh? Oh. Yeah."

I nodded. I could never get a good read on Sara any more. Around me, she seemed herself, but whenever I caught a glimpse of her when she was alone, she looked… well, sad. She never did tell me what all her time off over the summer was about, and I was worried that something had happened to her to make her put on a façade. She might be fooling Grissom, and even Nick and Warrick, but she wasn't fooling me.

"I think I may owe _you _a drink or two," I said lightly.

"Oh yeah?" Sara said, fighting to attain a teasing tone in her own voice. "And why's that?"

"I could have never done this without you," I said seriously. "You are a great teacher, Sara."

"Well, you were a great student," she said with a small smile. "We just may make a good team."

A few feet away, Nick leaned over from the front seat of Sara's car and honked her horn.

"Come on chatterboxes," he called. "Let's go!"

Sara put her hand on my arm for a moment and gave me another small smile. I grinned back, but as soon as she turned and started towards her car, the grin faded. There was something not right with her. Maybe she was just trying to get used to the staff changes, and losing Nick and Warrick, but if anyone asked me, I would tell them that her sadness had set in long before that. She could pretend all she wanted, but I wasn't going to buy it. I'd give her tonight as a free pass, I'd let her joke and try to smile and act like she was just fine, but after that, I'd be keeping an eye out for her.

Since there didn't seem to be anyone else around that would.


	5. Shakes

**A/N: **I did a little research for this chapter on PEAP counseling in LVPD, and it was actually really interesting. I borrowed the first name of one of their actual counselors, but changed her surname.

Also, Nesting Dolls will definitely be done, but probably not until tomorrow morning (Thursday).

Spoilers for episode 5x12, Snakes.

* * *

><p>I took a deep breath and stared at the brass nameplate on the door.<p>

_Melissa Causeway. Lead Peer Counselor. _

I never thought I'd be back here again. Or at least, not so soon. When she opened the door, Melissa looked just as surprised.

"Sara," she said in disbelief. "This is a surprise."

"For you and me both," I said. "I didn't really know where I was going until I ended up here."

"Come in," she said, opening her door wider. "Is everything okay? You finished your sessions months ago."

"Yeah, yeah I know," I said, shifting my weight as Melissa settled behind her desk. "They really helped. I don't think I ever told you that."

She paused to look at me. I had a hard time holding her gaze. It was her job to read into people, and even though I was there to ask for her help, I didn't want her to read too far. Our sessions together had broken down many of my walls, but there were still a few that stood standing.

"Then why are you here?" she asked softly, concerned. "You did all of the post-session things I suggested, right?"

"Uh huh," I said, sinking into my normal chair across from her.

"You're still keeping a journal?"

"Every day."

"You talked to your supervisor…"

I squirmed.

"Sara, that was the most important follow-up to take care of," she scolded. "Especially since he was aware of the issue that prompted these sessions."

"I tried," I said honestly. "I did, but you… you don't know Grissom. He's… complicated, hard to read. I was ready to talk to him, but… I don't know if he's ready to talk to me. Now I feel like we've lost our chance."

"Have you spoken to him at all?" she asked, her voice softer.

"Last night was my night off," I said. "I came in to discuss something with him and… we mentioned it."

"And you let him know what we'd accomplished here?"

"I told him I often look for approval in places I shouldn't."

"And you told him why?"

I paused.

"No."

Melissa sighed softly. I could tell she was frustrated, it was almost as if everything we'd discussed was thrown out the moment I set foot in the lab again, but that wasn't the problem. I wanted to tell Grissom about my family. I did. It explained a lot of my actions. Talking with Melissa made me realize that my lack of confidence and strength had much to do with an inadequate amount of attention in my childhood, specifically from my father. My family issues had never been resolved, and eventually, they pushed me to the point that I needed to seek that validation elsewhere. In college, I worked harder in the classes with male professors than those taught by females. I put in more overtime in San Francisco than all of my colleagues combined, in hopes that my supervisor would acknowledge me.

To Melissa, this meant that my relationship with Grissom was cut and dry. He was another male figure in a superior role, and I sought validation from him. But there was one big difference between my college professors and old bosses and Grissom that Melissa didn't know. I loved Grissom. And that confused me. Because while I still craved his approval, I was seeking something else, too. I was seeking his love. And for once, admiration in a professional capacity was not enough for me. So even though in my work I was a success, I still considered myself a failure. And I had reached my breaking point.

"Sara, as officials in law enforcement, we're taught that everyone lies," Melissa said. "And this is important to remember in our professional lives, but it must be forgotten in our personal ones. Otherwise, we'll never be able to trust someone enough to confide in them."

I nodded.

"You need to talk to Grissom," Melissa pressed gently. "Otherwise, this burden that you're carrying will just get heavier and heavier until something happens and you're not able to carry it by yourself anymore. Wouldn't you rather make the choice to share it with someone, instead of having that choice thrust upon you?"

I nodded again.

"I can't tell you what to do," she finished. "But if you want to resolve this, and overcome these hurdles that you're facing, you need to ask for help. Trust him enough to help you."

"I'll talk to him," I said quietly.

"Asking for help doesn't make you a failure, Sara," Melissa said. "Don't forget that."

We both rose from our seats and I reached out to shake Melissa's hand.

"Thank you for everything," I told her sincerely.

"It was my pleasure, Sara," she said. "I hope that things will turn out the best for you."

I let myself out of her office and walked out of the building to my car. Everything Melissa said was true, and I knew that what she suggested would only help me. I only needed to overcome my own insecurities enough to reach out to others.

And I _would _talk to Grissom.

Tonight.

Or maybe tomorrow.


	6. Testing Walls

**A/N: **Spoilers for episode 5x13, Nesting Dolls.

* * *

><p>It was not the first time I'd seen her cry. It was not my first exposure to her vulnerability. But this time felt different. For the first time in a very long time, if not for the first time ever, she had confided, deeply, in me. And for the first time in a very long time, I had not pulled away, and had not wanted to. In fact, I'd wanted nothing but to sit beside her and hold her hand for hours. She could cry, talk, or sit in complete silence; it didn't make any difference to me. What mattered was that we were both there, together, and I could tell that whatever happened next would be good for us.<p>

She took several deep breaths and slid her hand from mine to wipe away the lingering tears.

"I'm sorry," she breathed. "I thought I was done crying about this."

"It's okay," I said softly.

She finished drying her eyes and I wondered if it was too soon to take her hand again. I wanted to keep holding it. She took another deep breath and looked at me.

"You were wrong," I said.

"What?"

"You told me that you were at fault for the complications between us," I said, referring to our talk in my office last week. "You were wrong."

"Grissom, we don't have to do this," she said.

"No," I said firmly. "I haven't been a good friend to you, especially in the last few months. And… I miss what we had."

She gave me a tiny smile.

"Me too."

"Do you think it's too late?" I asked. "To start trying again?"

She sat back in her chair, pulling her knees even closer, staring at them.

"My counselor says I have a hard time putting trust in people," she said.

"I won't hurt you again."

She looked at me.

"I don't want you to do this if it's only because you feel sorry for me."

"Oh, honey," I said, finally taking her hand again. "It's much more than that."

She opened her mouth to speak, but a buzzing from my phone on the table made her stop. I sighed, picked up the phone and closed my eyes in exasperation.

"Ecklie?" Sara guessed.

I nodded.

"You should go," she said softly. "You're my supervisor. It's your job."

"Can I come back?" I asked hesitantly.

"Sure," she nodded.

She walked me out, and after another promise to return soon, waved me off.

"Let me know when to clear out my locker," she joked half-halfheartedly, the smile not quite reaching her eyes.

This would not be fun. But I was _not_ about to lose Sara.

* * *

><p>"Do you have something to say to me Catherine?"<p>

Ecklie had strode out of the room, and had left the two of us staring at each other. I knew she had something to say – when did she not? – but I wasn't sure if I was ready to hear it.

"Are we going to talk about this?" she asked.

"No," I said softly, and headed towards the door.

"Why are you making excuses for her insubordination?" she called.

I turned slowly.

"I'm not making excuses," I said evenly. "I was telling the truth."

"Well, it sounds like an excuse to me."

I licked my lips slowly and stared at her. I wondered if she'd changed since she'd switched to Swing, with Nick and Warrick in tow, if having the authority and power of a supervisor had gone to her head. Catherine and Sara had never been bosom buddies, but they had always been civil and professional with each other, even friendly, as of late. But now, it seemed like Catherine was betraying the trust and loyalty we had between us, and instead choosing Ecklie's side. Against Sara. Against me.

"You don't know anything about this situation, Catherine," I told her, fighting to keep my voice calm. "I would advise you to stay out of it."

Catherine shook her head in disbelief.

"Well, I hope you know what you're doing."

"Believe me. I do."

I turned on her and left CSI, heading straight for my car and straight for Sara's apartment, returning to her like I said I would. I knocked softly on her door for the second time that day, and she opened after only a pause, as if she were expecting me. Her eyes were dry, but still red, and the apartment looked just as I'd left it.

"What's the verdict?" she asked shakily.

"I told Ecklie I'm not firing you."

Her mouth dropped a little.

"I bet he wasn't happy with that," she said dully. "What happens now?"

"Well, you're still on suspension for a week," I said.

"That's it?" Sara said in disbelief. "What on earth did you tell them?"

"That what happened between you and Catherine and you and Conrad was a direct result of mismanagement on my part. And that I'm handling it."

"And they were satisfied with that?" she asked incredulously. "_Catherine _was okay with that?"

"Well, we still have some more talking to do."

Her face fell just a little.

"Yeah, I figured."

I looked at her, really looked at her, and realized how tired and worn down she looked. And how _thin_ she was.

"Have you eaten?"

"No," she replied, a hint of surprise in her voice over my concern.

"How about I make something while you take a shower?"

She raised an eyebrow.

"Are you telling me I smell?"

"I'm telling you I want my meal to be a surprise," I smiled. "And showers always help me relax."

Her expression showed she relented. She started towards her bedroom.

"I don't have much in the way of food," she called over her shoulder. "So good luck."

I chuckled, and once I heard the water start to run through the pipes, began digging around in her cabinets. She wasn't kidding. The cupboards were almost empty, but I was able to find what I was looking for. Pancake mix. It wouldn't be as good as the homemade variety I'd learned to make from my mother, but it would do. Sara's refrigerator was almost as empty, but fortunately, fruit and yogurt seemed to be the only things she kept in stock. I took out some blueberries and strawberries and got to work. By the time Sara emerged from the shower, hair wet, but pulled back into a ponytail, and looking much more refreshed than when she'd left, I had my masterpieces presented on two sky blue plates.

When Sara saw them, she broke into a smile – such a beaming, honest-to-God smile, that it almost made my heart break, because I realized how long it had been since I'd seen her smile like that.

"Happy face pancakes," she said, staring at the two blueberries and curved line of sliced strawberries.

She took a seat at her kitchen counter and I slid the plate over to her.

"Breakfast for dinner," I said. "My specialty."

"I haven't had these since I was a kid," she said, the smile lingering on her face. "Thanks."

We both stabbed and ate a few bites of pancakes.

"Look, Sara, I know I said we had more to talk about, but… I think maybe we've done enough for today," I said.

"Good," Sara said with a sigh of relief. "I don't know if I can handle much more today. And I have a lot of extra time on my hands."

She winked at me, and we finished the rest of our pancakes, berries and all, in a comfortable silence. I was relieved; relieved that finally, something between us had gone right, and I could possibly begin to release at least some of the worry for her I constantly carried around.

"You should get some sleep," I told her as she piled our dishes in the sink. "I'll, uh… I'll check in with you in the morning?"

She nodded.

"Thanks for everything," she said quietly.

"You're welcome, Sara," I said. "And maybe we can do this – breakfast – again soon."

"I'd like that."

I wanted to hug her, but didn't want to cross any lines, so I took her hand again and tried to convey everything I was feeling in a squeeze. She smiled back at me, and I knew that we had turned a corner today. Things weren't perfect. Neither of us had been granted a blank slate, nor had we wanted one. But it was obvious tonight that both of us wanted nothing more than to start working at gaining our trust in each other back.

And for now, that was more than I could ask for.


	7. RePairable

**A/N: **Just a small heads up that I won't be posting on Monday. I'll be out of town to take care of some things, but I don't think there were any episodes I was planning on posting for that day anyways. We'll be back on Tuesday ("Committed"!), so I'll see you all then :)

Spoilers for episode 5x14, UnBearable.

* * *

><p>There was only so much I could take.<p>

It had been one week. One week since I was suspended, one week since Grissom held my hand as I cried, one week since I spilled my heart to him. In that one week, we'd shared two breakfasts and a lunch, and he'd stopped by a handful more times. He'd been my constant source of support, and offered me a promise that showed me just a little light at the end of the tunnel. For one week, I smiled.

But apparently, one week was all I could get.

Earlier that night, I had stopped by before going home to hand in some paperwork, but his office was closed and locked. The new girl on Days said she'd seen him on his way out with Sofia.

_Sofia_.

And all at once, all I had achieved, all we had achieved, in the last week came crashing down around me. His patience, understanding, quiet encouragement was there for the taking when I needed it. But now, back on shift and apparently all better, he'd left me to take care of myself. Again.

Why had I let myself believe that this time would be different? It was the same as always; I had set myself up for disappointment, and now I had to deal with the consequences.

"Stupid," I muttered. "Stupid, stupid, stupid."

I was about to take a swift kick at the nearest piece of furniture, when a knock at the door stopped me in mid-swing. In the few seconds it took for me to cross to the door, I couldn't decide whether I wanted it to be him or not. I pulled it open.

It was Grissom.

"What are you doing here?"

"Did you get my message?" he asked, confused.

"No."

"Well, I said I'd stop by."

I relented and opened the door a little wider, letting him in.

"Can I get you anything to drink?" I asked stiffly. "Eat?"

"No, thank you," he replied. "I already ate."

"Oh," I said, knowing full well that he had. "Well… what can I do for you, then?"

He gave me a soft, contemplative look.

"How are you doing?"

"Fine," I sighed. "I'm fine. You don't need to check on me every two minutes."

"What's this all about, Sara?" he asked, genuinely confused. "Why are you upset with me?"

"I'm so tired of it, Grissom," I exhaled. "I'm so tired of all these twists and turns, thinking that things will be better, and then they turn out worse than before. I'm tired of mind games, I'm tired of running around in circles. I'm tired of all of it."

"What are you talking about?"

"Is she worth it?"

"I… what?"

"Sofia," I said stingingly. "Is she worth it?"

"Sara," he said evenly. "I don't know what you're talking about."

I strode across the living room to the window and stared out into it, because I couldn't stand to look at him when I told him what I was about to say.

"I heard it," I said. "I heard everything you told Dr. Lurie in interrogation last year. You remember the case?"

I turned to face him, but the surprise had still not faded from his face.

"How could I forget?" he said quietly.

"You know, all these years, when we didn't know what it was we had between us, the worst part was never knowing what you were thinking," I said. "At least now I know. I'm not worth the risk."

"Sara…"

"I can deal with that," I cut him off. "I can. I am. Even one dinner with me wasn't worth the risk. But… it is for her?"

"No," he said softly. "No, Sara, that's not it at all."

But I wasn't listening. I shook my head and stared at my feet.

"I'm becoming my mother."

"W-what?"

"She was hurt, time and time again, by my father, and yet she stayed with him," I said. "You've hurt me, more than once, and yet I can't bring myself to let you go."

"Sara, I made a promise to you," he said. "I'm not about to break it. I _will not_ hurt you again."

I shook my head, eyes filled with tears. God, how many times would I let this man see me cry?

"How can I believe you?" I whispered.

He took two steps closer to me.

"Do you trust me?"

I felt tears push over, but I didn't wipe them away. Instead, I held his gaze as we stared at each other for what felt like a lifetime. I wanted to say no. Because everything in my personal, professional and private life told me not to. But I couldn't, because I loved him.

I nodded.

"Then let me explain," he said, gesturing towards the couch where we both sat. "Sofia wanted to quit tonight. She's unhappy going from supervisor to CSI, but I took her to dinner to convince her to stay. That's all there is to it. I promise."

I nodded again. I believed him. And suddenly, I felt stupid.

"I need you to do me a favor," he said abruptly.

"Okay," I said shakily, blinking any remaining tears from my eyes.

"Promise me we won't do _this_," he said, wiggling his finger between us. "Anymore. Promise me we'll trust each other more."

I nodded in agreement.

"Trust is the first step."

"I said it before, and I'll say it again," he said. "I meant what I told you last week. I'm not going to only be here for you in for the bad times. I want to be around for the good ones, too. The way it used to be."

"Communication is a good next step," I put in.

"Yeah, it is," he said with a smile. "I'd say we're getting better at it… wouldn't you?"

I smiled too.

"Well, seeing as if this happened last year, I probably would have avoided you at all costs and kept company with a bottle of beer instead, I'd say yes, we are getting better."

His eyes twinkled as his grin grew wider.

"Well, I had dinner, but not dessert," he said. "Ice cream?"

"And a side of conversation?"

"Practice makes perfect."

I laughed and grabbed my coat.

"I'm in."


	8. Captivated

**A/N: **This one switches from Sara's point of view, to Grissom's, after the break. I tried doing it all from one POV like usual, but it worked much better this way.

Spoilers for episode 5x21, Committed.

* * *

><p>It had been one hell of a day.<p>

And sleep was pointless. I'd been lying there for hours now, hoping sleep would claim me, but restlessness trumped fatigue, and I lied still, eyes open, because I was afraid to close them.

Astonishingly, it wasn't the tingling and occasional sharp pains coming from my neck that was keeping me awake. Nor was it the memory of Adam gripping my throat, though I could still feel his touch. It wasn't reminiscence of the horrible few minutes or the recollection of the words Adam had spoken to me.

It was the look in Grissom's eye, as he watched me.

I had never seen such fear from him. That fleeting, unguarded moment of terror told me that he felt as vulnerable when it came to me as I did when it came to him. So much expressed in such a few short seconds of eye contact.

I was contemplating getting up early and going for my run when my phone rang. The glowing numbers on my clock read four a.m., and I knew it couldn't be anyone but somebody from work.

"Hello?" I answered groggily.

"Hi," came the soft reply.

"Grissom? Why are you calling so early, is everything okay?"

We'd parted only a few hours ago, after several reassurances on my part that I was fine, just shaken, and no, he didn't need to take me home. But obviously, he was doing just as well at getting rest as I was.

"I can't sleep," he said. "I thought you might be awake too."

"Yeah," I sighed. "I can't sleep either."

"Do you… do you want to come over?"

He said the words so rushed and hasty, that I had to think for several moments and make sure I'd really heard what he just said.

"Keep each other company, maybe?" he went on. "Two insomniacs are better than one."

"Grissom, I'm fine," I assured him again.

A beat passed.

"I'm not."

I gasped, softly enough, I hoped, that he didn't hear it, and somewhere along the way, my words got lost in my throat.

"You don't have to," he said quietly.

"Give me fifteen minutes."

* * *

><p>As I waited for Sara, my heart was literally pounding. I had never been so bold with her. The words had been out of my mouth before I could really stop to think about what I was asking, but I didn't regret it. I wanted to see her. I paced the hallway until she knocked on the door. I went to open it.<p>

"Hi," I said softly.

"I'm glad you picked your place," she said with a smile. "Seems like every time we're at mine, I end up in tears."

"It might be cursed," I played along as she stepped inside.

"And I really liked the place too."

She stopped and looked around. The townhouse was mostly clean, save for a rumpled blanket on the couch in front of the flickering television.

"What?"

"Nothing," she replied. "It's just been a while since I've been here."

"It has, hasn't it?" I agreed. "Well, I... I'm glad you're here."

She smiled.

"Me too."

We both stared at each other with small smiles and soft eyes. What came next?

"So… are you okay?" she asked finally.

"Yeah," I sighed. "Yeah, I'm okay. I'm just… I don't know, distracted."

"Distracted?"

"Y-you want to sit down?"

She took a cautious seat on my sofa, and I sat next to her, turning down the volume on the television.

"It's just that… every time I try to sleep, I can't help but… worry," I said. "About you."

"I told you I'm fine, Grissom," she said gently. "Really."

"I know," I said, nodding. "I know. And… I'm being absurd. But… I just get this very _real_ fear that you're in danger or hurt or scared, and I just… it kills me, Sara."

She didn't say anything, but her emotion was so clearly written all over her face. I dropped my gaze to the sofa cushion, unsure of what to say. I felt like I was being selfish. She was the one who should be worried, afraid, anxious – not me. _I _was the one who pushed her away all this time. I didn't have the right to be saying these things to her. I didn't deserve to let her know how I felt. I'd lost my chance for that.

But all of a sudden, her fingers were on top of mine, and she squeezed my hand. I stared for a while, at her hand clasping mine, and finally lifted my gaze to her. Everything I felt was reflected in her eyes. We hesitated for the slightest second, and made our moves simultaneously. She leaned into me, I pulled her close. She buried her head into my chest, and I wrapped my arms around her body. She clenched my shirt with her fingers, I buried my nose in her hair. And we sat like that for minute after blissful minute.

Neither of us cried, neither of us spoke, but when we pulled apart, we both understood. Our shift from hell had been a blessing in disguise. Because we both – me, especially – had needed the truth thrust in our faces. Because that's what it took to understand. In a moment of terror, a time of danger, all we needed, all we wanted, was each other.

It wasn't the miracle answer to all our unsolved problems. It didn't tell us exactly what we needed to do and what would come next. But it had made some things perfectly clear, and that was a good step.

At some point, somehow, we both settled pretty comfortably into my couch, and I turned the volume back up on the old black and white movie playing on TV, and we sat, together. My hand still in hers.

As the credits rolled, I felt Sara's head start to droop next to me. I looked over, and she was out. For the longest time, I just sat, watching her. She was so peaceful and relaxed and so goddamned beautiful. In sleep, her body started to droop towards me, and I let her lean against me. I could feel the warmth of her body against mine. My eyes began to close.

And the two adults who couldn't sleep alone in a spacious, comfortable bed, fell asleep together, on a lumpy leather sofa.


	9. Gravest Discovery

**A/N: **So there are a lot of different versions of how and when and where Grissom and Sara finally and actually _got_ together. Obviously, you've seen my take on it throughout this season's stories. I think that "Nesting Dolls" was a turning point, "Committed" was an eye-opener, and "Grave Danger" was the final push. Let me know what you think.

Season six will start tomorrow :)

Spoilers for episodes 5x24/5x25, Grave Danger.

* * *

><p>My hands wouldn't stop shaking.<p>

I tried putting on a pot of water for tea, but my fingers just wouldn't cooperate. I tried shaking some carrots out of a bag for something to eat, but they ended up spilling all over the floor. Finally, I gave up and stretched out on my living room couch, hoping sleep might claim me.

But then my mind started to race.

I saw Nick lying there in the box. My imagination went into over-drive, envisioning what it would have been like had we'd been too late. If we had… lost him. Having come so close to losing someone I cared so much about, I already felt like a different person than the one who woke up two mornings ago. If we'd lost Nick… I don't know who I would have been.

I got up from the couch and began pacing, for something to do. I wanted to get out and go somewhere, anywhere, to keep myself busy and distracted. Actually, the one place I wanted to be was at the hospital, with Nick. I wanted to stay up all night and stare at him, just to make sure he was really still here and still breathing. But I knew it wasn't my place to be at the hospital right then. Nick had his family there, and when the time came, we would get to see him too.

I wondered how the rest of the team was handling tonight. Catherine had her daughter to distract her. But Warrick, how was Warrick coping? God, if I was this distraught, I could only imagine how Nick's best friend would be. I wondered if I should call him, to check in on him at the very least, or offer some company if needed. I knew I needed it. Maybe if Warrick wasn't up for a guest, I could call Greg. My hand was on the phone when my doorbell rang.

It was three a.m. No one in their right mind would come by at this hour. And if it were an emergency, or one of the team, there would have been a call first. I approached the door cautiously, fleetingly thinking that any potential attacker picked a lucky night – my trembling fingers could hardly cause much damage. But I opened the door to one wholly harmless Gilbert Grissom.

He looked surprised that I had answered. He also looked like he hadn't gotten any sleep, and, his brow wrinkled and his hands shoved into his jacket pockets, he looked just as distressed as I felt. He pulled his hands from his pockets and ran his fingers through his hair, and he seemed to be having difficulty looking me in the eye. I'd never seen him like this before. Not even after Adam Trent.

"Grissom," I whispered. "What are you doing here?"

"I don't know," he responded desperately. "I… I needed something to do and… somehow I ended up here. I-I'm sorry."

"No, it's okay," I rushed, holding the door open to let him inside. "I was… I was just thinking about how some company would be nice. Do you want some tea?"

His face relaxed.

"Yeah," he said softly. "Please."

I took a deep breath and willed my quivering fingers to calm as I reached for the discarded pot in my sink. I held it under the faucet, but much of the water was splashing and spilling out of the pot.

"Damn."

I felt his presence behind me, but I was still surprised when he put a warm hand over mine on the handle of the pot, steadying both my shaking hand and the pot. He took it to the stove and turned on the burner.

"Mine only just stopped shaking."

His voice was steady, but I could see pain in his eyes. I wanted so much to comfort him, to ease whatever fear was still absorbing him and tell him that it was all okay now. But I felt unsure, so I concentrated my gaze on my shoe, and wondered how two people who shared so much could still tell each other so little.

"It could have been you."

His words interrupted my thoughts, but it wasn't so much what he was saying that surprised me, but _how_ he said it. His voice lost all its calmness. He seemed on the brink of tears. And sure enough, when I looked up at him, his clear blue eyes were swimming with moisture.

"Oh, Grissom," I whispered. "Don't think that way. It could have been any of us."

"But if it had been you…"

"It wasn't."

"No," he said firmly. "Sara, you don't understand. If it _had _been you, I… I…"

He trailed off, and I allowed myself to take his hand. I led him to the couch, where we sat, side by side. He took a deep breath.

"I don't know what would have happened, if we'd lost Nick," he continued, struggling to keep the pain out of his voice. "It would have been… unimaginable. But Sara… if I'd lost you, I… don't think I could have continued."

"Continued what?" I breathed.

"Living," he answered. "Without you. I can't do it."

I took his hand again.

"I'm right here," I reassured him. "You don't have to."

"No," he said again. "You don't get it. I-I don't want to do this anymore. I _can't_ do this any more. I've tried so hard…"

"Grissom," I said gently. "What are you saying?"

"I can't come so close to losing Nick, and not realize what's really important," he said. "Things can change so quickly, life can be stolen in an instant, and I don't want to live any longer without the one thing that truly makes me happy."

We stared at each other for several moments, hands still clasped. My heart thudding in my chest felt as loud as a drum. The question was lingering between us, and though my pulse was racing, I kept my voice calm as I asked it.

"Which is what?"

"You."

He took one of his hands from mine and placed it on my face. It felt warm.

"You, Sara," he repeated. "And not you as my CSI, and not even not you as my friend, but you _with _me, us together… because I can't ignore what I feel for you any longer. It's been getting clearer and clearer to me these last few weeks, and I'd never forgive myself if I passed up my last second chance. Because you've given me too many already, Sara."

My breath was catching, a lump building in my throat that I was willing to keep down, because I didn't want the tears to come flowing out like they threatened to. But I couldn't hold it in. It was too much, what he was saying, and the tears came flowing through with an unattractive sob, and before I knew it, I was enfolded in Grissom, his arms around me and his scent surrounding me. I don't know how long I cried for, but he held me the entire time, and didn't say a word. Didn't try to kiss or touch me, but just held me the way I needed to be held, making me feel safe and protected.

I understood everything he had told me. My worry for Nick was real, but the realization I shared with Grissom – that life was too short – was also what was making my hands tremble. I cried until I had no more tears to shed, realizing that I was blubbering and entirely unattractive, but that Grissom was still there.

"W-what does this mean?"

"You once told me you knew what to do about this, about you and me," Grissom replied. "And now, I do too. I don't want to live another day without you, Sara, because that kind of living isn't really living at all. I've been deluding myself all this time, and now I realize how much I've been missing out on, how much _we've _missed out on."

He kept his arm around me and pulled me closer as I took in his words.

"There's a lot I have to apologize for," he continued. "I've made a lot of mistakes when it comes to you. But if you'll take me – completely – and… if you'll forgive me… I-I _know _what to do about this."

I looked up at him with a small smile.

"You're not the only one who has made mistakes," I admitted. "And you're not the only one with apologies."

He nodded.

"We're two very clear-sighted people, who see very blindly when it comes to each other."

He squeezed my hand.

"So… what happens next?" I asked.

A gentle finger found my ear, and traced an invisible line down my jaw.

"I'd like to kiss you," he said huskily. I looked up in surprise. "If you'll let me."

I couldn't manage words, only a nod, and soon, his lips were pressed against mine. All the weighted tension I'd been carrying melted away in his touch, the knot in my belly loosened, and I finally felt at peace. My heart was no longer pounding, it was positively fluttering, and I felt nervous and jittery with excitement. It was worth the wait – kissing Grissom. It was like something I'd never felt before. He broke the contact before I'd had liked, but we both parted with smiles on our faces.

"Y-you can stay here tonight," I said timidly. "If… if you want."

"I do," he said gently. "Thank you."

My smile widened.

"But Sara," he added. "I think we should take this a little slow. I don't want to mess anything up by moving too fast, trying to make up for lost time. I don't want to make any more mistakes. There's too much to lose."

"No more mistakes," I agreed.

There was a lot we needed to talk about. There was a lot to figure out. But it was not the time. All that I was able to acknowledge was that I felt infinitely lighter than I had just an hour ago, now that he was here.

The shimmering silver lining on a very dark cloud.


End file.
